


What Dreams May Come

by footprints



Category: Il buono il brutto il cattivo | The Good The Bad and The Ugly (1966)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:48:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26525500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/footprints/pseuds/footprints
Summary: "You dream about me, Blondie?"
Relationships: "Blondie" | The Man with No Name/Tuco Ramirez
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	What Dreams May Come

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katerunaway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katerunaway/gifts).



Sleep has always felt like a weakness to him, albeit one that all men share. That moment of losing consciousness, of slowly sliding into darkness. But it is the lack of sleep that concerns him now. The nightmares are to blame, he knows, those terrors disavowed in the day that come by night. He tries not to pay them any mind. But he cannot make them stop.

Months of bone-deep tiredness. Every night tossing and turning, listening to the animals and insects, the wind. In the night, alert for anything that sounds like footsteps, horses hooves, danger. In the day, distracted and fatigued. It's a risky state for a man to be in, he knows. Which is why he says yes when Tuco offers to keep watch one night, a few weeks into their arrangement. He doesn't fully understand the offer, or trust it, but the chance to sleep, with someone awake to guard him, is too tempting to say no to.

"If anyone comes, I shoot them, muertos. You're safe with Tuco!" He grins, cocking his gun.

"Do what you like. Just do it quietly."

He knows, with complete certainty, that Tuco won't harm him. Not with the name he holds in his head, and the gold it unlocks. And then there's the affection, of sorts, that exists between them, although he'd never rely on that alone. Out in the desert, in the company of a man who's tried to kill him, he feels safer than he has in years. He'd think it strange, if he let himself think about it at all.

He lies down on his bedroll and pulls a blanket over himself, trying to get comfortable. Turns to find Tuco watching him, an indecipherable glint in his eye. He's too exhausted to wonder what it means.

"Sleep well, Blondie."

"I will. Guess you won't, though." They have never wished each other goodnight before. He finds he doesn't mind it.

He wakes up with the world still in darkness, hours before dawn. No nightmares yet, fortunately, but sleeplessness is a hard habit to break. The fire has gone out, and something makes him pause, listening. He can hear an oddly familiar noise, which he slowly realises is Tuco, snoring softly. He should have known that he wouldn't keep his word. Wouldn't hurt him, no, but wouldn't sacrifice even a single night's sleep for him, either.

Suddenly, he's angry. Angry at Tuco for lying, for watching him, for being able to fall asleep so easily. Angry at himself for trusting a man that cannot be trusted. He gets up and strides over to Tuco, waking him with a kick to the stomach.

To his credit, Tuco's hand is on his gun before he’s even opened his eyes. "Son of a-"

Blondie kicks him again, in the shoulder this time, cutting him off.

"Blondie? Is that you?"

Blondie kicks the gun away, drops to kneel on Tuco's chest, pinning him down. "You were supposed to be keeping watch."

"A man can't be expected to stay up all night!" Tuco sounds affronted by the very idea.

"That's exactly what you promised to do."

"Promised, yes - do, no." Tuco laughs. ‘"No one's coming for us, friend. We're all alone out here. We rode all day, didn't see another soul."

He's right, which does nothing to lessen his anger. "So why in hell did you say you would keep watch?"

"I lied! I thought it might help you sleep. You need to rest." Tuco looks up at him, holds his gaze. "Last night, every night - you get up, you lie down, all night. Then when you sleep, you make noises. What do you dream about, eh?"

Blondie's knuckles go white where they're clutching Tuco's shirt. He shouldn't have suggested this partnership, shouldn't have spent all these weeks beside him. The man's too observant. About this, about everything. His eyes flick to Tuco's mouth, and linger there. What else has he noticed?

"You dream about me, Blondie?" He says, quietly.

It should be a taunt, but it's not. Tuco's still holding his gaze, half smiling, not attempting to move from where he's lying beneath him. Tuco, who realised he needed sleep, and knew enough of him to know he'd never admit to it. Who tricked him, but only to let him rest. Something twists inside of him.

For the first time, he allows himself to imagine it, this thing that his mind has been skirting around. He'd be kneeling over Tuco, exactly like this, and he'd open his pants, take himself out, and start touching himself. Tuco wouldn't even say anything. He'd just watch, in that wide-eyed way he sometimes has, and lift his hands to either side of his hips, anchoring him. And afterwards, after he'd come onto the earth, onto Tuco's face, he'd lie down next to him, and fall asleep.

He wishes, fervently, that his dreams were of this, and not what they are. It would be better.

The silence has gone on too long. Tuco opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Blondie releases him, stands up.

"I don't dream."

He goes back to his bedroll. A moment passes, and then he hears Tuco breathing heavily, blankets rustling. He realises what he must be doing, and the thought sends a jolt straight to his cock, but he refuses to acknowledge it. He lies awake for a long time. When he finally falls asleep, he dreams.


End file.
